“Yes, Greeks, Gauls and even Romans. My father knew many of the most prominent traders at the ports and was toying with moving our business to Cartagena or Sagunt.”
“Really! I have heard of these cities but never yet visited either.”
“From here Cartagena must be three days ride. Sagunt is well over a week to the north.”
Neugen lay back and gnawed another burnt piece of beef with a distant look. Caros thought back to the days his father took him to the ports to visit and trade when he was just a boy and how in the past year he had visited as a representative for his father’s lucrative business. All that history vanished within the space of two days. He wished he could sob as the mourning in him grew. Those few Arvenci slain in retaliation did nothing to numb the pain. Sighing he pulled his cloak tighter and lay down beside the glowing embers to try to sleep. His mind darted from event to event though, from the bodies of loved ones to screams of war. He roused himself and tried to think back to happier memories. He was just drifting off when his mind fixed on something he had seen. A vague shape combined with two vivid colours. Exhausted as he was, he worried at the memory like a loose tooth. He had defeated the axeman and was staring into the eastern forests. He had rubbed sweat from his eyes and in that moment he was certain he had seen a man moving into the dense growth. What had caught his attention most was the crimson and white object strung across the man’s shoulders.
Caros sat up at a sudden recollection. He knew that shape. He had stared at it often enough as a boy. Lost in thoughts of battle, war cries and the boom of warhorns. His father’s warhorn was painted crimson and had an uncommon, white lynx tail fastened to it with silver braid. His father had fought in two campaigns when a young warrior before Caros was born. Caros had often wondered if those two campaigns had provided the seed money for his father’s trading business. In the second campaign, against the Carpetani, his father had taken a warhorn from a renowned Carpetani hero. Needless to say the hero had made it very difficult, being as how he did not want to give his father the warhorn or lose his life.
He cursed himself for not remembering this earlier whilst the camp was awake. Now the camp was quietly asleep under the blue velvet night. Even Neugen had fallen asleep, dreaming of horses and cities no doubt. He stood and paced restlessly. Alugra’s men had rolled up any survivors from the battle in the valley, but all told there weren’t more than thirty or forty Arvenci killed. They had assumed the Arvenci numbered closer to two hundred. There were a lot unaccounted for. Alugra would have had scouts out in all directions searching for larger bands.
Whoever Caros had seen escape the valley had been going east, but could have changed direction. This was hopeless. In the morning he would establish with Alfren if any of the men had come across the warhorn when dealing with the dead. If not, then it most likely the Arvenci had escaped with it. Neugen could track, he had regularly pointed out spoor all morning as he rode ahead of Caros. Even in the hard, stony soils on the hillsides. Caros thought deeply. That warhorn represented something to him in terms of his father, the sanctity of his home and the invasion and death of both by the Arvenci. It was likely that the very Arvenci who now carried it had attacked and torched his home, maybe even killed his father and brother. He felt his heart harden once again. Despair and loss were past now and he felt he had a direction.
CHAPTER 4
THE BASTETANI WARRIORS were eager to break camp when the dawn sun rose. Cooking fires were kept small and men hurried to pack their belongings, eat and be away. The few men that had accompanied them from the valley took responsibility for the regained herd of horse and cattle. Alugra was bellowing out orders to his men and ever cautious, already had his riders out to scout their way back to the valley.
Caros ate a hastily prepared hard bread and some cold beef, remnants of the steer slaughtered the evening before. Neugen was happily testing his elbow which although badly bruised wasn’t as seriously injured as he’d thought. Caros was glad for his new friend and that’s when he broached the topic foremost on his mind. “I’m not finished hunting the Arvenci.”
Neugen was startled, “Why? We killed plenty of them and retrieved most of the herds. What more do you want?”
Caros told him, “I saw something that belonged to my father yesterday. After I had battled the warrior with the axe. I did not recognise it for what it was, but last night realised what I had seen.” He told Neugen of the warhorn, its distinctive shape and colouring and how he had seen someone escape into the forest with the object on his back. Neugen looked sceptical, but remained quiet. “I want it back, but most of all I want the bastard carrying it to know who he took it from and the cost. He most likely tore it from my father’s wall, maybe even killed him and my brother.”
Neugen shook his head, “Caros, what is done cannot be undone. You could go on to the end of time trying to revenge your family and villagers, but you have other things to do.”
“Like what?” Caros spat. “Right now there is a chance I can actually catch the Arvenci responsible. What other things need doing more than that.”
Neugen was exasperated. He could see the intelligence and strength of the young trader. He had admired his bravery and skill in the battle yesterday. He had contacts and most likely still plenty of gold to set himself up as a successful trader. Instead he seemed determined to go chasing after ghosts. He mention none of this and instead he asked the most obvious question. “This Arvenci, he could be anywhere by now. How do you plan to catch up with him? You surely wouldn’t chase him all the way back to his land?”
Caros smiled, “Well that’s where I could use some help. I watched you yesterday; you’re able to read tracks like they were carved in stone. Help me track him down...” to his disappointment Neugen was shaking his head vigorously.
“I’m going back with my fellow warriors. You heard Alugra last night, things are happening and war is looming. Not just rustling and raiding. This is not the right time for me to leave my fellows.”
Caros accepted this, but would not give up. He had one more arrow to shoot, “Look, I didn’t expect you to do this for nothing. You ride well yet you still fight on foot. I’ll give you two of my mounts in exchange. We’ll make good time and be done with this inside of two or three days. Don’t tell me you couldn’t track a warrior in that time? You could be back with Alugra by the time the rest of the warriors reach your own lands.”
Neugen looked hurt and excited at the same time. He pondered the idea, flexing his arm unconsciously. Caros knew the warrior could not resist the offer. He yearned for his own mounts that would earn him more status as a warrior as well as more share of spoils in battle. Caros kept silent and let the offer work on the warrior. His father had taught him a good sale was often made with less talk. Finally Neugen smiled at him, his dark eyes glinting, “You are a good trader. Your offer is a fine one. I accept!” Caros beamed at him. Neugen went on, “However you’ll have to weave that magic again on Alugra. I’m his warrior and will only go if he accepts.”
Caros smiled, “I’ve anticipated that. I’ll talk to him as soon as he has finished barking at everyone!” Both men laughed.
Alugra contemplated the proposal with a deep frown, noting the determined set in Caros’ face. The proposal Caros made was sound, provided they were hunting just one man, but the odds were that the Arvenci raiders would have prearranged waypoints where small numbers of scattered raiders would gather before reaching their lands. Then again, with Neugen tracking, he would easily discern from the tracks if they pursued too great a force.
Caros anticipated that Alugra might just outright denying the request and for a heartbeat it looked as though that was what the graybeard was going to do. Instead, as though reading Caros’ need to purge some venom so that he could regain his life, his shoulders relaxed.
Caros had offered no trade Neugen’s service. He had known Alugra would have been insulted. Instead, if the graybeard wanted payment, he would let him make that proposal. Alugra seemed to
appreciate this as well as leant honor to the request. Alugra cleared his throat and glanced to where his leading men already sat mounted, waiting for him. He called to Neugen who stood off at a distance. The young warrior strode over to the pair, looking from Alugra to Caros and trying to read the outcome of the discussion. Caros was calm, Alugra pensive.
“Caros has spoken to you and you are willing I understand?”
“Yes. I am confident if we backtrack and scour the valley where the battle took place in I will be able to pick up the trail. After that it is up to the gods.”
Alugra nodded. “Your blade will be missed, but you have my leave.” He looked at Caros. “Go on then. I know this is something you must do. Do not take any more risks than you need to and when it is done put it behind you. I have seen good men burned by what should be simple retribution.” He glanced meaningfully towards Alfren. “There is more to leading a life of honor.”
Caros was elated. His respect for the battle-hardened chief had grown in the three days they had marched together. He would be lucky to have the same wisdom and gravity this man had when he reached his forty odd years of age.
They said farewell to the warriors who strode off to the north behind the chief and Captains. Many of them called Caros by his name as they passed. He had earned their respect. Caros felt an up welling of emotion that surprised him. In three short days he had gone from being a rich merchant’s son to a well-liked warrior and he already missed the Bastetani warriors. Beside him Neugen was brimming with his own emotions. He had in his hands the reins of the two mounts that Caros had selected from the herd of horses recovered from the Arvenci. They were mares and worth a bag of staters each.
Caros had outfitted himself with greaves for his shins and forearms as well as a simple iron helmet and importantly a shield. He also boasted seven light iron-tipped javelins as well as his falcata. He had purchased the armour and weapons from those of the warriors who had brought extras or who had plundered them from the dead Arvenci. Neugen had quickly acquired the items for him from amongst his fellow warriors for just a fraction of their value. Caros was immensely grateful and once he had strapped everything on he revelled in the weight. “Yesterday I rode into battle with little more than a falcata and my mare. I feel like I was naked compared to how I am armoured now.”
Neugen grinned sheepishly. “Well who expected you to go charging like a lynx into battle wearing just a tunic and breeches? It was all I could do to stay ahead of you!”
Caros stared at him in horror. “You mean...”
Neugen shrugged, “No insult intended Caros, but you did not exactly look like a fighter with your blond locks and perfumed tunic. Alfren all but pissed himself when Alugra ordered him to allow you along.”
Caros turned blood red. They had all thought he was some rich boy along to claim bragging rights after they had done all the fighting. Neugen slapped him on the shoulder. “Like I said, you proved us wrong. Alugra must have seen something the rest of us did not.”
Caros glared at Neugen and snarled. “Well now I feel really great. Imagine what those Arvenci thought when they saw me!”
Neugen nodded and then started shaking. A moment later, both men burst out laughing.
The two young warriors rode west till they reached the valley in which they had ambushed the Arvenci the day before. At this point Caros led the two extra mounts that were loaded with their few possessions. Neugen forged ahead and began casting about for tracks. The sun was already high, but they made better time than they had yesterday as they knew the most direct route there. They had agreed the surviving Arvenci, which had slipped away from the battle, would have broken north. This would take them on the most direct route back to Arvenci lands and strongholds. For this reason, Neugen began casting for tracks along the valley’s northern flank. It was slow work. Caros had every faith in the man’s abilities though. He kept well behind and moved in Neugen’s own trail to minimise disturbing any vital clues. Well after midday they had worked their way up from a point adjacent to where they had ambushed the Arvenci and back east along the valley perimeter.
Finally, Neugen snorted in disgust and gestured to Caros who brought up the mounts. “Nothing. Nobody, but us has passed this way heading north. Anybody fleeing the battle would have reached Alugra’s lines at this point.” He waved south into the valley.
Caros nodded. “So, if he did not break north, then he headed south before Alugra’s men could trap him.”
“Not a bad plan as the coast is filled with travellers, traders and the like. He could easily disappear amongst all.”
Caros agreed. Since the Carthaginians had arrived some years earlier and begun first trading at and then occupying the ports, the coastal plain south of them was really an open corridor. However, it was one that he knew well, having traded up and down it with his father since he was just a child of ten summers. They dismounted for a short meal of cold beef and hard bread. The sun was baking hot even in the shade and there was no breeze today. The unfamiliar armour had chafed his skin under the leather strapping and sweat stung the raw spots. He barely felt the discomfort though and washed the light meal down with tepid water from the water bag. After eating the men mounted up and crossed the valley keeping to the east of the line Alugra’s men had held to trap fleeing Arvenci. Quickly reaching the southern flank of the valley they cast west along that flank. Caros admired Neugen’s confidence as he broke ahead and leaned forward to scan the ground and vegetation, for any sign that would betray their quarry. Caros kept a guarded eye out for signs of ambush. They passed various trails, most made by wildlife, others forged by shepherds and their flocks of sheep. At each of these Caros would cast along the path for some distance looking to find fresh tracks that could have been made by their quarry. The afternoon wore by and Caros had his first doubts. They had already passed the point in the valley where they had slain the Arvenci. For some reason the forest trails dwindled and the trees and undergrowth became particularly dense. The men backtracked often to find a way to continue down the south flank of the valley. In the near distance on their left, breaking from the dense fauna, rose a rocky hill. It marked the western end of the valley.
Caros had lost sight of Neugen ahead of him on the winding trail. He felt like he was plunging into ever-denser undergrowth before he broke free of the bush and found himself under a canopy of tall pines on the northern face of the hill he had seen. Neugen sat his horse under the tall trees. The dappled shade and breeze was an instant relief to Caros. It was a splendid, restful hillside. He walked the horses over to Neugen, their footfalls muffled by years of pine needles on the forest floor. Caros gazed about appreciatively, not noticing the triumphant smile on his friend’s face. Finally he spotted it and his eyes widened, “Do you have something?”
Neugen pointed to the forest floor. Caros saw pine needles, the odd pinecone and twig. Nothing struck him as out of place or disturbed. Neugen laughed, “You traders, if it was dipped in silver or gold you’d notice it quick enough!” Then he pointed out the series of depressions, the scuff of drier needles visible through the fresher, newer needles.
Caros could barely see what Neugen pointed out to him, “So what makes you think this is our man?” He honestly couldn’t get excited at the faint trail.
Neugen snorted. “This is he, or I should say them.” He smiled at Caros’ confused expression. “Three men came up the hillside. They were moving fast, but quietly and they were careful. That last clue makes me think these were Arvenci. They were breaking out of the valley and did not want to be discovered.”
It made sense and Caros was once again grateful he had Neugen’s help. “This was yesterday evening. They probably climbed that hill and hid there overnight.”
Neugen looked up the hill. “That would make sense. They would have had the high ground in case they were attacked.”
“Right, let’s get up there and find their tracks then.” Caros was keenly aware the Arvenci had already gained a day as the sun was heading
to the western horizon at speed.
Neugen had other ideas. “Waste of time, they would have had to come down off the hill. We’ll just skirt it at this height and find their tracks leading away. Come on.”
Caros saw the intelligence in the plan and he was thrilled by this hunt. It was obvious that Neugen was in his element and thoroughly enjoying it as well. Sticking to the plan they circled the hill, fully expecting the Arvenci to come off the north face of the hill and head for their tribal lands.
The sun was actually touching the western hills when Neugen finally found the tracks. Except they were heading southeast. Their eyes followed the direction the tracks led. The faint blue smudge of ocean was visible in the distance. Caros was surprised, but as the implications set in that surprise changed to confidence. They were heading straight into lands he knew well. Had they headed northwards they would have soon struck Oretani or Carpetani lands and then onward to the Arvenci homeland. They had followed the tracks only a short while before Neugen halted. “It’s no use it’s getting too dark. We need to hole up for the night. Get an early start and make up the lost time.”
Caros was impatient to make up that time, but it was obviously too dark to see the tracks and they needed the rest. “Fine. I’ll get some firewood and we can shelter against those rocks.” He said thrusting his chin towards a granite outcrop that formed a nice little shelter. Neugen hobbled the horses while Caros dragged up some dried boughs. Before long they had a small fire burning and had some flatbread roasting on a rock next to the hot flames.
Neugen searched for more food once they had eaten the hot bread. “Damn, nothing for the morning.” He pronounced after scratching through every conceivable fold in his small pack.
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